Gay Erotic Stories

I needed an "A" in this course so that my GPA wouldn’t go so low that I’d be kicked out of college. Actually doing the work in all of my courses would have been the usual way to keep the GPA up. But, I didn’t come to college to work. I came to have a good time. And I was. In fact, I was having a great time. And I didn’t want anything to fuck it up. So, I was ready to do what I had to do, except for course work that is. Oh, let me introduce myself: I’m Marco. I’m a 20-year-old Italian guy from New York City. While I may not be the smartest guy around, I am, if I do say so myself, one of the hottest guys around. Classic Italian features, big brown eyes, dark wavy hair, a well-muscled body, a big fat dick, and a bubble butt that even straight guys admire. I’m as confident and cocky as they come. Oh, and the thing about me that makes me perfect (so I’m told): a body covered with soft brown hair. You can just about make out my chiseled chest and well-toned abs through the hair. Girls didn’t always like the hair too much. But, who cares about girls? My hairy hard body puts most guys over the top and I was making the most of it while I was away at college. I had my pick of the studs on campus. Even bedded down a few "straight" dudes. And I wasn’t afraid to use my hairy assets to get a lot of the things I needed. Which takes me back to that "A" I was talking about. It was the Spring semester of my junior year. I was on academic probation, which meant that if I didn’t get my GPA above a 2.0 by the end of that semester, they were gonna kick my hairy ass out. The grades I’d been getting in my other classes weren’t gonna do it for me, unless I actually started doing the work. But, in my history course I saw the possibility of getting an "A", maybe even an "A+" without having to open a book. Professor Thomas, my history teacher, was probably in his late 30s. He was a decent looking guy. Blonde, blue eyes, with round wire-rimmed glasses. He seemed to have a pretty good body, though it was hard to tell because he always wore loose chinos and button-down shirts with only the top button open and a t-shirt underneath. He wore a wedding ring. But, from the first day of class, I’d noticed that Professor Thomas seemed to be looking my way a whole lot (on the days I showed up for class). It’s not like I ever raised my hand or said anything in class. Regardless, he was looking. After getting a "C" on the first exam in his class, and a "D" on the second, and with only 3 weeks left in the semester, I decided to see whether Professor Thomas’s looks my way could be used to my advantage. I checked out his scheduled office hours. Then I got ready to see him. Instead of shaving, I left the hefty amount of stubble on my face. I put on a white half tank top that revealed most of my hairy chest, my hairy stomach, and showed off my muscular arms (only my lower arms are hairy, my upper arms are pretty smooth allowing full view of my well-developed biceps and triceps). I put on a pair of tight jeans that were torn up and down the legs, giving an excellent view of my muscular and very hairy legs. While these jeans were faded all over, there was the especially nice fade created by my big cock pressing against the denim just to left of the zipper. Oh, and I didn’t wear any underwear. I looked super hot. I slicked my hair back with some gel and headed for Professor Thomas’s office. When I got to his office, I knocked and just walked in. Professor Thomas’s eyes almost popped right through those wire-rimmed glasses of his when he looked up from his desk and saw me standing there. Things looked pretty good. But, I wasn’t entirely sure yet. I said, "Hey, Professor! How ya doin’?" "Fine, Marco, fine," he replied, "what can I do for you?" He was having trouble keeping his eyes on my face. His eyes would dart around my hairy body and then he’d look back at my face again. Now I was pretty sure that I had him. So, I threw the plan into full gear. I casually slipped my thumbs through the belt loops on the front of my jeans, pulling the waistband down slightly, so he could see even more of my furry torso. His eyes went right there and then back to my face. I said, "Professor, you know my grades in your class so far suck." "Well, Marco," he said, "you’re not doing very well, that’s for sure." "Yeah," I said, and moved one of my hands up to my exposed hairy stomach, sort of rubbing it. His eyes followed it. I had him. "Well," I continued, "I was wondering if I could get some help for the final or, maybe, do some, like, extra credit work that might get things up." He asked, his eyes darting back and forth from my hand on my stomach to my face (probably hoping I wouldn’t notice, but it was too late; I knew I was in control), "What did you have in mind?" "Well," I said, "I thought maybe you could come over to my dorm room and, I don’t know, like, tutor me or discuss some other options." Now sat down, my legs spread wide open, and reached both of my arms up and ran my hands over my slicked back hair and then left my hands locked behind my neck, giving him a good look at my hairy arm pits. "Cause I really do want to do well in this class," I continued. Professor Thomas took off his glasses (I think they had actually fogged up), and began to wipe them with a tissue. He said, "Okay, Marco. I think we can work something out. When is a good time for you?" I told him to come by at around 3 the next afternoon. "Great, I’ll see you then," he said. "Thanks, Professor. Thanks a lot," I said, extending my hand to shake. He went to get up to shake my hand, but he stopped himself, sat back down, and extended his hand. Somebody had a woody, and I could see the "A" on my transcript already. I squeezed his hand just a bit and held on just a little too long. "Tomorrow at 3, then," he said. Phase one of my plan had worked like a fucking charm. It was on to phase two. I knew he’d be on time. He was a time freak, always pissing and moaning about students who came late to class. So, about 10 minutes before 3, I wrote out a note that said, "Professor Thomas, I’m in the shower. Just go on in. I’ll be out in a few minutes." I taped it to my dorm room door and ran to the shower room next door. I turned on the water and got myself soaking wet. Then I got out and rubbed some baby oil over my furry chest and wrapped a beat up old white towel around my narrow waist. I listened at the door and, at exactly 3, I heard footsteps coming down the hall and stopping. It was him. I heard my dorm room door open. I waited a minute or so, checked myself in the mirror (I thought to myself, "I’d fuck you if I weren’t you."), and headed into my room. When I walked in, Professor Thomas was looking at the posters on my wall. "Hey, Professor," I said, "sorry I’m a little late for our meeting." He turned around and it was like the word "Tilt" appeared in his eyes. I caught a quick rise in those loose chinos of his. He kinda gulped and said, "No problem at all," and headed over to shake my hand. "Yeah," I continued, "I was working out earlier and lost track of the time. I didn’t want to be all sweaty and smelly when you got here. So, I took a quick shower. Please, have a seat on the bed. I’ll get dressed quickly, if you don’t mind." He just sort of backed up and sat down, looking more than a little dazed at the sight of my hot hairy body glistening in the afternoon sunlight coming through my window. "I don’t mind," he said. I turned to my dresser, but I could feel his eyes on me. He hadn’t seen nothing yet. I pulled out a pair of white boxer briefs and let my towel drop, revealing my hairy bubble butt. "I’m so glad you came," I said, "I hope it wasn’t, like, a hassle or anything." "No, no, um, not a problem," he said, sorta stammering. I bent over to pick up the towel from the floor, giving him a good view of my hairy crack. Then I let him see what I knew he had been waiting to see. I turned around naked. My big fat cock was hanging there, nestled in an ample supply of brown hair. Professor Thomas crossed his legs. I took the towel and wiped it all over my body. Then I took my cock in my hand and wiped it off, really slowly. I looked up and could see beads of sweat on Professor Thomas’s forehead. I pulled on the boxer briefs, then I reached in and adjusted my cock so that it pointed upwards, creating a great outline in the front of the underwear. And, the white underwear looked great against the brown hair on my body. I pulled my desk chair over in front of Professor Thomas, and sat down, legs spread. "So, Professor, here we are," I said, "What are my options?" He didn’t answer for a couple of seconds, but then he started listing off all these ideas he had. I didn’t even listen. I just began rubbing my hand slowly over my crotch. I was now getting turned on by the idea that this guy was putty in my hands. So, my dick began to stiffen and tent up in the boxer briefs. His eyes were locked on my crotch. In my lowest, sexiest voice, I said, "Look, Professor. All that stuff sounds really difficult. I think you know that I had something hard in mind when I came to see you, not something difficult." I moved my hand away from my crotch, letting him see my cock stiffening in the boxer briefs. Professor Thomas stared at my cock, the head of which was now sticking out over the waist band on my boxer briefs. It was like he was hypnotized or something. I pushed myself closer to him, took his hand and placed in on my rock hard dick. "Something hard," I said. He began to rub his hand on my dick. "I see," he said, as he continued staring at my dick, rubbing his hand up and down. Seeing a guy melt like this always made me hotter. I stood up, kicked the chair back, and pushed my brief-covered dick into his face. I took his hand and moved it around on my hard, hairy torso. He was inhaling deeply as I rubbed my crotch in his face. I said, "Listen, Professor, no more bullshit. We both know why you’re here. I’ve got something you want, and you’ve got something I want. I’m talkin’ about a little exchange here." I moved back from him and pulled my boxer briefs down. My stiff dick bounced right out, pointing directly at Professor Thomas. I moved close to him again and ran the big head of my dick across his lips. I heard that ever-so-familiar moan of pleasure come from him, just like I’d heard it from so many other guys. I stepped back a bit, my dick in my hand, and said, "I get an ‘A’ in your class, and you get this hot rod where ever you want it." He looked like he was dizzy, staring at my cock. His eyes slowly moved up to mine and he said, "You got it, Marco. You got it." His mouth was hanging open. I moved close to him again and slowly slipped my dick into his mouth. Within seconds, I had a good face-fucking rhythm going. Professor Thomas knew how to suck cock. It felt amazing. As he continued to suck on my cock, I told him, "Do what you’ve wanted to do from the first day you saw me in class." With that, he began to run his hands through the brown hair on my torso. I was getting ready to come. So, I pulled my dick out of his mouth. He looked up at me with desperation in his eyes. This guy wanted to taste my cum in his mouth. "So, we got a deal, right, Professor?" I asked. "Uh huh," he grunted. I slipped my dick back in his mouth and within seconds I was pumping my hot cum down his throat. He swallowed every bit of it. My dick fell out of his mouth, and he licked his lips. Then he reached for his brief case. He pulled out the roster for my class and put an "A" in the column marked "Final Grade." He showed it to me and said, "Now, let me fuck that hairy ass of yours, and we can make this an A+." Needless to say, I got an "A+", was taken off academic probation, and Professor Thomas insisted that I sign up for a 4-credit independent study with him the following semester. When I asked him what the topic would be, he said, "Oh, don’t worry, Marco. There’s plenty to explore."